Deck Building
by Lady Gage
Summary: Warning: This is a pre-slash. Building is a delicate craft that takes time. Johnny is admired while building a deck.


Deck Building

By Lady Gage

_Emergency! belongs to Universal and Mark VII. I only get satisfaction from continuing the story._

I watch as he swings the hammer with ease landing it square on the nail head with each swift move. His shirtless, sun kissed body glistens with sweat in the midday sunlight. As his muscles move and flex, the bronze skin moves across the hardness, sliding like expensive silk over his chest and sending my heart racing. I can feel my breathing rate increasing with every embedded nail.

When he bends over I can see his perfectly rounded ass beneath the perfectly tight fitting Wrangler jeans. The stitching around the pockets flex near the breaking point. The taut fabric hugs the bowed muscular thighs with precision leaving nothing to the imagination. He might be thin, but that body is rock hard and in the bright noon sun, heated skin disappears beneath the most gorgeous pair of painted on Wrangler jeans I have ever had the pleasure of seeing.

When he turns to face me, my breath catches in my throat. The tight ass gone from my vision is replaced with the most wonderful view of the man wearing those perfect jeans that I can now see fit as well from the front as they did from behind. When he reaches for another nail I can see the front of the fabric pull tight and outline the beauty I know resides beneath.

A soft wanton moan escapes unbridled from my lips. I can just imagine my hands gliding across the soft planes and ridges of his beautifully toned abdomen. My eyes travel down the sculpted V as it disappears into his pants. A pool of lust builds and radiates low in my loin. Each time he swings that hammer sparks of heat seem to flow from my very core and run through my trembling body. I can't help but spread my legs a little more, reflexively lifting my hips in response to my body's desire for him. My eyes close and my head lulls to one side as I imagine him closer. I can feel the heat from his body against mine. My mind flashes into a void of intensely pure sensations as I can almost feel his hands roam across my uber-sensitive skin.

I don't even notice when the hammering stops.

Then I hear that voice…quiet, deep and sexy…drenched in raw sex appeal…whispering in my ear.

I feel his heat waft across my earlobe before I sense the movement of his lips close to my ear in time with his words. "Hey, are you okay? Is it too hot out here for you?" Then those skilled hands I thought I was dreaming about really made their presence known. I know he has been checking my pulse and respirations. Worry is scorched into his brow. I can see that he thinks he has let me stay outside too long. I know I've only been out of the hospital for a day, but I wanted…needed to be close to him. I've missed being this close to him. I've missed the way those dark pools bear down on me with great intensity and nearly suffocate me with their penetrating glory when he looks my way.

A sultry breeze blows across the partially finished deck further heating my skin beneath his touch. I look into the deep dark pools and see concern glittering amid something I hope is desire.

I never have the chance to tell him I'm okay before his mouth consumes mine with a feral kiss. An animalistic groan escapes from him as his hands reach around and lift me to him tightly. His tongue presses against my lips, parting them and diving inside as he walks me backwards through the sliding glass doors into the air-conditioned house. I think he has missed being close to me too.

Finally my imagination comes to life when I run my hands down the grooves of his muscular back stopping at the base of his spine where those little dimples reside, on either side, just above where his back slides gracefully into that well toned ass. I love those dimples. My fingers dip into them just before slipping carefully into the tight waist band of the best pair of Wrangler jeans on the planet.

Reality steps in and he pulls away from me. "Whoa…I, um, you…we shouldn't…you're recovering. I don'…I mean…Aw hell, I might hurt you." He tries to guide me to a chair. I resist with the little strength I've regained since the accident, but he's much stronger than me.

"But I…"

"I know, but we need to be careful. We have plenty of time. I almost lost you. I won't let that happen again. I can wait. I have to wait." He runs trembling hands through his hair and blows an excruciatingly slow breath through clenched teeth. "I'll get you a cold drink and then put up the tools. I think we've worked on the deck enough for today." He turns away from me and moves over to the sink, but he doesn't reach for a glass. Instead he places both hands on the counter and braces himself. Breathing deeply he lowers his head and just stands there trying to reclaim his control.

I know he wants me as much as I want him, but maybe he's right. Maybe we need to wait. I don't want to let him down. I want our next time to be much more than he could ever expect. In the past our time together has been hesitant, careful. This relationship is new to us and neither one wants to mess it up by turning it into just sex, so we seem to pull back, never really going all the way. Never really experiencing the fullness of intercourse, but that doesn't stop me from dreaming about it…and in those dreams he is exquisite.

I want to be able to give myself to him completely, but God I wish we could do it now. My body craves his touch. My body craves to cradle his hips between my thighs. My hands crave to run through the thick soft waves of his lusciously dark hair, to grab fistfuls of it and pull him closer.

"But I want to" My words come out in a voice that sounds breathy and slightly higher pitched than normal. I know I'm pouting, but I can't help myself. He turns and smiles at me, not the usual crooked grin when he finds something entertaining or is happy to see someone. No this is the smile that emits satisfaction and pride…like when he's finished something he made with his own hands or when he knows his critical patient will live to see another day. This is not that boyish grin but the sincere smile that shows the depth of who he is.

My breath catches in my throat. I know I have a compulsive need to feel alive again. That need is driving me to a raw hunger for him. With him I can feel alive. With him I feel loved, needed, wanted. We give that to each other every day that we are together. Not just through our love, but through our support and understanding both on the job and off. Through years of shared experiences, years of highs and lows, years of helping each other get back on our feet after just about every conceivable illness or injury firefighters might think of. We've been there. One of us or both of us have traveled from hell and back and now into each other's intimate space. I love that man with all of my being. Right now I want to love him with my body, mind and soul.

He moves back toward me and kneels in front of the chair he pushed me into; his hands on my knees; his eyes gazing into mine with a blinding intensity. "Don't ever think that I don't want to. It's killing me not to." He cupped my chin with his hand and pulled me into a tender kiss. "It's killing me, but we need to be sure you are well before we can. Okay?"

"Okay." I whisper and rest my head on his shoulder. Truthfully, I am tired, exhausted really. Maybe he's right. God, I hate it when he's right.

Just like the deck out back, we are not finished. We are a work in progress that needs attention. Lots of handiwork and skill are needed to build _us_. Building is a delicate craft that takes time. There are aspects of it that I can teach him and much that I can learn from his experience. I'm sure we will enjoy that new part of our relationship. I know I will. But for now I think I need to take a nap.

"Can you help me up to bed?" I whisper against his neck. "I don't think I can make it on my own."

I can feel the soothing motion of his hand rubbing circles on the tense muscles of my back. "Sure, just wait right here a minute. I'm going to put those tools away. We might get some rain this afternoon."

"I don't remember that in the weather report." I slowly sit up straighter.

He shrugs. "I just…kinda feel it in the air. The birds are…" He waved his hand toward the glass doors. "…well they've stopped singing. It's quiet, too quiet and the breeze feels damp, humid. I think it might rain."

I can't help the smile that spreads across my face. "My own weather man."

He flashes that crooked boyish grin now. "Yeah, I'm all yours." He teases before disappearing out the door.


End file.
